


You Made Your Bed

by bela013



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-23
Updated: 2012-11-23
Packaged: 2017-11-19 07:46:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/570872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bela013/pseuds/bela013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon finds himself enjoying far too much the queer attention of Queen Selyse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Made Your Bed

Her long fingers were cold on my waist, her digits pressed hard enough to bruise, and I would not complain, it was a blessing that her nails were so short. At least, when she penetrate me with that wooden _thing_ , she was gentle. No, I don't thing gentle would be the appropriate word, for there was no warmth in her actions, she was patient with his pains like only a woman could be, for I had no maiden head, but the first pain was just as great.  
I was glad that she made me get in all fours for this, it meant she couldn't see the tears dripping from my eyes. The queen was not a woman of tenderness, at least not with me. I would gladly subjugate myself to her again, if she could hug me like she hugged the little princess yesterday. I just wanted to bury my face in the furs that wrapped her, and have her icy hands cares my face. But all I have is the vice grip on my hips, and a mouthful of sheets, to muff those treacherous moans from echoing all over the tower.  
The movements were slow at first, letting me fell every curve of the shaft carved of wood that was attached on her like any cock would, the swell of the fake head pushing inside me, sometimes hitting a spot that made a low moan choke on my throat.  
I wanted to beg her to put me out of my misery, to touch me. *Please. Your grace, please.* I didn't care if her fingers would grip me too tight, if they would pinch me, or if her short nail would be able to scratch at me. All I wanted was for her to touch me. My own cock, the only cock in the room, I had to remind me, moved on its own, twitching. It too begged the queen for her attention, bobbing up and down, dripping this translucent sticky thing.  
Her hands didn't move from their spot, but her torso bent forwards, making me remember how she stood a head taller than me, with her breast pressed on my back. It gave her more room inside me, but I could only feel her hard nipples against my bare skin, and if I closed my eyes and tried hard enough, I could almost pretend this was a hug.  
The movements changed them, turning to fast and rough trusts from her part, it was more painful than pleasurable, and I asked myself once more, why did I let her use me like this. Was all of this because I wanted her to kiss my cheeks like she did with the little princess, always away from the grey scales, put with both her hands pressed firm into both sides of the little girl's face, not seaming to mind if her fingers covered the whole of the grey mass? Or was it because I wanted her long arms around my rib cage, in the same way that she does with her red priestess, letting the red woman touch her warm face to the side of her neck, allowing that witch to shower her with affection?  
My mouth open in agony, letting the bed sheets to drop down on the matters, a scream came from the pit of my stomach, making me shake, my arms and legs no longer supporting me. Her body is heavy above mine, but my unexpected ecstasy still clouded my mind. The feel of something wet under my stomach tear me apart from my delusions, shame made my face hot, but the way her hands pushed her body up again, up and out of me, left me in a cold and empty way, the redness of my cheeks was forgotten, the lack of her inside me was more painful than having her there.  
I turn whimpering to her, to ask for her to stay here with me, if only for tonight. It was unnecessary, for she was still there, naked and strong, her body shadowing my face, that always hard wooden cock on top of my mine, my white seed smearing in the dark polished oak. It dug on my stomach as she bend over me again, but having her teeth on my ear, and her hot breath on my skin, made it all better.


End file.
